Jessi has always been her own genre. Loud, blunt, hilarious, emotional, unwilling to dilute herself for anyone. P.M.S (Pretty Mood Swings), her comeback EP, takes that reputation and stretches it into something more complex than her earlier projects ever allowed. The title signals it immediately – a tongue-in-cheek reclaiming of volatility, turning what’s usually framed as “too much” into something powerful. The EP doesn’t clean up her edges. It leans into them, letting every spike of attitude, grief, humour, and confidence exist without apology.

The opening track, “Girls Like Me”, wastes no time announcing the thesis. Jessi fires off lines like “Yeah, I curse, yeah, I'm loud, and I got my titties out” with the kind of self-possession that only comes from someone who’s long stopped asking for permission. The song is built on that signature Jessi cadence – rap, punchline, swagger, all delivered with a force that cuts through the beat rather than sitting neatly on top of it. She’s cracked this specific lane: tough without becoming cartoonish, funny without undermining her seriousness, theatrical without losing sincerity. The song keeps escalating until the outro slides into a breakdown that feels more polished than expected, like she’s reminding everyone she can give you structure when she wants to.

From there, “Brand New Boots” feels like a left turn that somehow makes perfect sense. Latin horns run over hip-hop percussion and open the track to signal a full-blown fiesta. “I got Seoul in my sneakers” is a great line on its own, but the follow-up – “I feel so fuckin alive… I’m done crying myself to sleep at night” – lands harder because of how plainly she delivers it. There’s no over-stylized metaphor or glossy optimism. It sounds like a woman clawing her way back to herself after a period that almost broke her. Given the upheavals she’s endured over the past year – the label dramas, the public scrutiny, the career recalibrations – this track reads like the declaration that she’s moving forward whether or not the industry is ready for her evolution. The nostalgia of the production gives it a warmth that settles the EP after the opener’s chaos.

Then comes “HELL”, which feels like the real centre of gravity. The soft synths and the deep inhale she takes at the beginning signal a tonal shift before she even sings a word. Jessi’s public persona is so tied to energy and bravado that hearing her sit in vulnerability without armour is a welcomed shift. Her singing voice – husky, textured, and more controlled than people tend to give her credit for – pulls the track into a darker emotional space. “Bad girl sad, wish I never danced with the devil” could easily slip into melodrama, but the line is grounded by her delivery. It’s weary, not theatrical. The fact that the entire track is written in English also adds clarity; the emotions land without translation gaps or stylistic filters. This is the first moment on the project where she stops performing for the room and instead sings like she’s processing something in real time. It’s the EP’s heaviest track, and it might also be its best.

“Marry Me” continues the emotional thread but shifts the tone. On paper, the concept seems almost too straightforward – Jessi asking for commitment in the most literal terms: “Make me yours at the altar… get down on one knee, say will you marry me.” But that directness is what makes it work. She’s never been the type to hide behind symbolism or soften her wants to appear cool or detached. The guitar-led soul-pop production gives the track a sweetness that counters her usual hard exterior. It’s not often we get to hear Jessi lean this far into softness, and the result is a kind of emotional transparency that undercuts every stereotype ever projected onto her. People love to paint her as the perpetual wild card, the tough-talking industry rebel. It’s not that she isn’t also those things, but in “Marry Me” she’s simply honest – someone who’s achieved unconventional success yet still wants the most traditional sense of security and devotion. If you’ve followed Jessi and are familiar with her persona, it’s a much more revealing track than it initially looks.

By the time “Newsflash” rolls in to close the EP, she’s back in her element – sharp, rhythmic, and slightly unhinged in the way fans adore. An homage to her Korean-American heritage, the beat leans into NYC rap textures: chopped samples, crisp percussion, and a groove that invites confidence. It’s instantly reminiscent of her hits like “Zoom” in its structure and swagger, but heavier, as if she’s delivering the song from the other side of a storm. Lines like “She’s still that B, I’m the UNNI” and “Still rocking that stage like a wild child” remind listeners that despite all the growth and introspection, the core of her artistry is unchanged. She’s here to hype, push, provoke, and lead. Ending the track – and the EP – with “Jebbies, 고마워” grounds the entire project in gratitude. It’s a simple gesture, but it’s the most direct Jessi can get to sentimentality in her rap moments. A graceful bow at the curtain call to the fans who’ve stayed in her corner while her career took its unpredictable turns.

P.M.S succeeds because it treats Jessi’s personality as an advantage rather than something to be contained or softened. The loud moments hit because the vulnerable ones earn them. The heartbreak feels sharper because she doesn’t hide behind metaphors. And when she switches back into full bravado mode by the end, it feels like a smart choice.

The Jessi we hear on P.M.S is the real one – emotional, loud, resilient, and refusing to be boxed in. It’s her most multidimensional work to date, and honestly, that might be the prettiest mood of all.

P.M.S by Jessi is out now.